


A Spooky Jim Christmas

by rainydayes



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Christmas Special, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:45:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayes/pseuds/rainydayes
Summary: Spooky loves Christmas time more than anything in the world, but Blurry's being even more of a downer than usual this year. With Spooky's Holiday Bash on the way, will the two companions make amends? Will they even be able to see each other ever again?





	A Spooky Jim Christmas

On a cold winter’s night a man sits in solitude, watching the snowfall by the window. The man wears a christmas sweater, the ugly sort, but stays warm by the fire all the same, hot cocoa in hand. You may be asking yourself now why I’m describing such an ordinary scene to you. But dearest reader this is not your ordinary man.Oh look, he’s smiling now, shaking his head. He pats his Santa hat gingerly and crosses his legs. Indeed he is not your average man.

“I think that’s quite contrary,” he says with a smirk. Ordinary or not he’s a bit smug in my opinion. The man laughs, his tongue poking through his teeth. You must be curious what he calls himself, aren’t you? Well dearest, he’s Spooky. Spooky Jim Christmas to be more exact. But his name isn’t the only strange thing about him.

“Are you telling them the Spooky Jim Christmas story?” Well yes Spooky, and they’d be hearing it right now if you’d stop breaking the fourth wall. Spooky laughs and, letting out an easy sigh. “Why don’t I tell them? Here, come sit with me. You must be freezing.” His eyes are quite kind and no one likes the cold. He will guide you well dearest reader. Let’s sit back and enjoy A Spooky Jim Christmas.

…

I love the holidays. I love joy and celebration and food and friends and family and lists. I especially love my sweater. It’s dark green with fuzzy red bulbs for mistletoe and white stitching on the borders. It was my grandfather’s who was quite a wiseman. One thing Grandpa always told me was to never trust a dog wearing rubber boots, and if you do then to feed it almonds. Of course he was put in a home shortly after that visit but I keep those words close to my heart.

“Do you seriously have to be decorating this early? Thanksgiving just ended a minute ago. No one will even like the decorations.” Ebeneezer-I mean Blurryface flopped onto the couch with a pout. I simply smiled, turning my attention back to the manger set, yet another relic from my grandpa.

“Oh c’mon Blurry, it’s finally the most wonderful time of the year!” I spinned around the living room, much to his dismay. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for Christmas to come back again?” Blurry scoffed, rolling his bright red eyes.

“You didn’t.” 

I raised a brow, gesturing to him with Baby J. “But I did. Through October and November. The horror.” Blurry groaned, pulling his blood red beanie over his head.

“I can’t wait for this hell to end.” I snickered, placing the Mary statue in her rightful place. I pulled out a pair of bright green reindeer ears, gingerly placing them on his head before pulling out my phone to take a snap. 

“Look at how Christmasy you look Blurry!” Blurry groaned in response, lifting enough cloth off his face to give me a fiery glare. I waved a dismissive hand. He’d adjust soon enough like he did every year. I didn’t always have someone to enjoy the holiday with me, no one that could understand. Christmas time was a time I could always be myself and make everyone I love as happy as I was, even just a little. Everybody gets Christmas, even bad guys.

“Hey!” I jolted, glancing at a now fully attentive Blurryface. His eyes weren’t as iridescent as before. They shifted uneasily, avoiding eye contact. “I uh, you just looked, nevermind.” He patted my head awkwardly before rushing away into the kitchen. I remember first meeting him and how scary he was at first. He’s really just an awkward emo man-child that screams and cries a lot.

My Little Blurry Baby.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he growled, his eyes cautionary. 

“Why of course sire,” I retorted, bowing deeply. 

“I prefer Judge.”

“Got it Judge Judy.” His ruby eyes narrowed.

“I should choke you.”

“A bit kinky don’t you think.” The tree occupied my attention now as I hanged the glass ornaments. A sharpness entered my space, mostly likely the forgetful kick from my charming counterpart. 

“I forget about that damn force-field,” he grumbled, stocking back to the kitchen. I chuckled hanging a gingerbread version of myself. 

“You’re not the only deep-feeling-magic-being.”

“Touche.”

Our late night continued like that, the back and forth since neither of us sleep. When six o’clock came we both sat on the floor of the dining room, I with a mug of plain black coffee and Blurry with a mug of too much Red Bull.

“I wanted to ask you about something,” I mention casually, hyperfocusing on his body language. Blurry was a cryptic person, so if I want my actual answer I’d have to do some deciphering.

“Hit me,” he said sleepily, his eyes drooped slightly while his black-stained hands gently grasped his cup. He wasn’t really tired, but he was dedicated to his aesthetic.

“What if we throw a Christmas party-!”

“Definitely not,” he refuted without batting an eye. My mouth slacked open in shock, not used to such outright rejection.

“But why?” Blurry’s eyes shifted over to me, giving me a once over followed by a knowing half-smile.

“Spooky, I hate to break it to you, but you kinda go overboard as far as holiday spirit goes. Remember the Steampunk Halloween Bash?” I huffed, sipping my coffee with a pout. Blurry giggled, making my disappointment almost worth it to make him happy.

But I’m selfish. “Why do you have to be such drag all the time! That’s why no one likes you except for me.” Blurry’s smile faltered, his eyes glowing. He stood up abruptly, splashes of red bull hitting the floor. I looked up hesitantly, trying to ignore the knots forming in my gut. He looked down, his face taunting.

“Fine, you can have your little party. Then you’ll realize how right I was about you. You can’t do it. Everyone will hate you for it.” I’m sure he said more but my space had fully formed by that point, drowning out any noise that wasn’t mine. That was the beginning of my Blurry-less Christmas.

....

You told that quite well Spooky. Won’t you continue? Spooky shakes his head, giving a shy smile. “That’s too much story for one night. I should be going to sleep now. Let’s continue in the morning. Dining room, maybe?”

We’d all like that very much. Goodnight Spooky Jim and goodnight to you to dear reader!


End file.
